Lost Scarf
by LaJeuneFilleHilarante
Summary: READER INSERT. Russia's lost his scarf! But when you find it... what exactly will you be up against?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, yeah, this is a reader insert... Romance is so hard for me to write. I blushed madly the whole time I was doing this; I felt my face would burst into flames at any minute... and you wouldn't want author-chan to burn up, now would you? :) Enjoy cute Russia ~ DISCLAIMER: Hetalia does not belong to me. You belong to you :)**

You blinked up through the air thick with falling snowflakes to examine the paper stuck on the rough brown wood of a telephone post about a foot above your head. It sported but three tight, laconic sentences: "Advertisement: lost scarf. Call Ivan Braginski at xxx-yyy-0099. Reward negotiable.", all underscored by a crude illustration of a long, thick, light-brownish line you assumed was a depiction of the missing scarf. You glanced down at the piece of soft, well-worn, flowery-smelling fabric in your hands, which you had found draped forlornly in a shadowy corner booth of the cafe you frequented, and had just exited, the insides of your shivering belly somewhat warmed by a good milky latte. God, how you love those things. Ahem. So, yes... anyways, you turned your attention to the cloth you carried! There was a pretty good chance, you reckoned, that this was the scarf in the ad, as it was roughly the same color as the one in the drawing, and both ad and scarf were in close proximity of each other. Biting your lip in thought, you stroked the fluffy material as you deliberated whether or not to call. You wanted to return the scarf to its rightful owner - this Mr. Braginski - but you were painfully shy, and usually avoided unneccessary contact with other people, as most seemed to enjoy staring you down and making you nervous. On the other hand, it _would_ be dishonest to not return the scarf... and so few people responded to "lost item" advertisements nowadays that you could even be considered an everyday do-gooder! The chance for moral improvement was just too good to pass up. Draping the scarf around your own neck (you had to double it so it wouldn't drag on the damp sidewalk), you reached into your bag, pulled out your phone, and dialed the number on the poster, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before pressing the "send" key.

"Allo?" a voice picked up on the other end of the line. You cleared your throat briefly before mustering the courage to speak.

"Um, yes... hi... Um, I - I am calling about the ad. For the scarf," you mentally cursed yourself as you failed to make your voice more audible.

"And _who exactly_ are_ you_, hmm?" the person on the phone with you - apparently a woman - had taken on a rather menacing, accusatory tone, which caused your already nervous stutters to increase until you were almost unintelligable.

"Y-yes... I... was, um... I was ca-calling about the... er, the ad. T-the lost scarf!" It occured to you that you probably presented a strange picture to the wholly festive passerby, leaned up against the telephone post, eyes closed, sweat pouring down your face in twenty-degree weather... and shaking like a leaf in the wind. A hiss emanated from the phone, and you started in fright, your eyes snapping open.

"_YOU LITTLE LYING SERPENT! INSOLENT PANDORA! WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MY BIG BROTHER?! YOU -"_, the woman's voice crackled and screeched through the earpiece, and you had to hold the phone away from yourself, eyeing it nervously, until the yelling stopped. You couldn't make out all her words clearly, for which you were quite glad. Another deep breath.

"Ma'am, p-please don't get the wrong idea! I found a scarf - is it your, um... brother's? - and an ad on a pole with your number on it and -" Your words were cut short as the lady continued to fume.

"_DON'T GIVE ME ANY EXCUSES! MY BROTHER NEVER LOSES HIS SCARF! YOU DIRTY LITTLE LIAR; YOU STOLE IT! I'M GOING TO -"_

"Ma'am... please don't -"

_"DON'T WHAT?! DON'T CALL THE POLICE?! DON'T WORRY, I WON'T CALL THEM... THOSE GOOD FOR NOTHING PANSIES AREN'T REAL MEN! I'M GOING TO FIND YOU, AND I'M GOING TO KILL YOU MYSELF! NOBODY MESSES WITH MY BRO_ -" highly disturbed, now, you didn't bother to let her finish as you snapped your phone shut. "Oh, dear Lord..." nobody but you heard your soft, trembling moan as you stayed where you were, one hand wrapped tightly around your phone, the other clutching at the splintery wooden post, snowflakes gathering thickly on your fuzzy hat.

After a few minutes, you had gathered your wits enough to shove yourself off your anchor, smooth out your somewhat disheveled hair, stick your phone back in your bag and resume what you hoped was your casual stroll along the sidewalk, continuing on your original path to the grocery store.

Once there, you grabbed a basket and went straight to the snacks aisle. _There goes my diet_, you thought. Most of the time, you were able to manage your schedule and nutritious food at the same time, but when you were agitated like this, neither hell nor high water could restrain you from your junk food. Grabbing a pack of soft-bake cinnamon buns, you began to cast about for the dark chocolate when you felt a heavy hand descend on your shoulder. With an alarmed gasp, you spun on your heel, only to come face-to-face with an... abdomen? Your glance traveled upwards to the owner of the abdomen, and saw that he was both handsome and frowning, with pale skin and hair, strange violet eyes, and a rather disturbing... _aura_... surrounding him with a frigid glow. _Ok. I am seriously freaked out now._

Before you could open your mouth, the tall stranger thundered, "_WHAT_ do you think you do awith mine scarf?" Your hand went to the fabric draped around your neck - it was so warming and comfortable you had forgotten to take it off, after the incident with the woman over the phone. Looking up at the confrontational man once again, you managed to squeak out a pale "Sorry!" as you pulled off the scarf and held it out, ducking your head and blushing with shame. _Is it really his scarf?_ The man took the scarf from you, and was about to put it on when you raised your head once more, looked him in the eye to ask "Were you the one who put up the ads?" in a clear, strong voice that left you practically gasping with shock and effort. The alleged owner of the scarf looked rather bemused, but nodded.

"_Da_. It was me. I know you probably find it strange, _krasivy_, but mine scarf is very important to me... I didn't like to lose it." You could have sworn he blushed as he spoke. His voice, now that he had secured his precious scarf, was rather gentle, and his slight smile was endearingly childish. You grinned in return - another shocking act - and asked him, "Where are you from? I - I hope it's not rude of me to ask, but..."

He chuckled. "No, it is not rude. I am from Russia... you can call me Ivan, _da_? What is your name?", he beamed down on you like a benevolent ice spirit and waited patiently for your murmured reply. "**[Your name here]**. My name is **[Your name here]**."

Ivan reached out and grabbed your hand, pumping it up and down enthusiastically. "It is very nice to meet you, **[Your name]**. I think we will be very good friends, _da_?" You looked down again, your face reddening, but you nodded despite yourself. The friendly Russian put you quite at ease, though you did feel an urge to ask him about that woman who had answered the phone earlier...

"Will you walk with me? We need to discuss your reward..."

_Oh well._ You smiled to yourself. _It seems like there will be plenty of time for that_.

On the way out, you slipped the package of cinnamon buns back onto a shelf. But you did keep the chocolate.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello again! Here's a fluffy follow-up for the story ~ Express thanks for all the reviews... DISCLAIMER: Hetalia does not belong to me. You belong to Mother Russia... :)**

_One month later..._

Sighing contentedly, you snuggled deeper into Ivan's jacket. Sure, it was a bit strange that he was wearing it _indoors_ _with the fireplace blazing_, but you really couldn't complain, as it lent comfort and warmth to your small frame. You felt his lips in your hair, his long arms circling your waist, as you cuddled together on the sofa, not needing words to communicate with each other.

It came to you, then, as you trailed a finger along the otherwise untouchable scarf, that you never had gotten a reward out of returning it. Not a monetary one, anyways But you and Ivan had began seeing each other that same week, and you had each grown to love the other very, very much. _That's reward enough for me_, you thought and smiled complacently up at Ivan, though you did make a mental note to never again, in your life as a working lost-and-found, respond to an ad that stated "Reward negotiable". _Then again, I doubt that few people but Ivan would do something like that_...

Your comfortable silence was rudely shaken by a slamming door and resounding footsteps coming down the hall. Both you and Ivan bolted upright as a shrill voice rang through the house: "_BIIIIIIG BROOOOOTHEEEEERR! I'M HE_ - re..." The voice was cut short and you found yourself observing a white-blond-haired young woman standing with jaw completely slacked in the doorway to the den. Her surprise turned to a menacing bluish aura a split second later, and she jumped at you with hands outstretched, clawlike. "_GET AWAY FROM MY BROTHER YOU LITTLE TROLLOP!"_

She missed you by an inch, hurtling headlong into the sofa cushion as you and Ivan leapt apart. "Natalia! Stop it! It's okay!" Ivan made a mad dash for his sister, but she ducked under his reaching arm and lunged at you again. You dodged her once more, almost knocking over a stack of books and a half-empty bottle of vodka before propelling yourself towards the front door.

The three of you must have presented a comical sight (as a certain American watching from a nearby window observed, choking gleefully on bits of hamburger), slipping and sliding over the frozen sidewalks, you in the lead, running - quite literally - for your life. Belarus was right behind you, hair and skirt flying, launching obscenities into the chill winter air. And then came Ivan, waving his pipe in one hand, likewise cursing... "NATALIA! WHY YOU CHASE THEM ALL AWAY?! WHY I HAVE TO LOSE MY SCARF JUST TO MEET SOMEONE! COOOOOME BAAAAACK, DA?!"


End file.
